


see the sun run low

by TheSleepingKnight



Category: Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Drabble, F/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSleepingKnight/pseuds/TheSleepingKnight
Summary: Emyia Shirou dies for the last time.





	see the sun run low

Shirou thinks he’s dying. He’s been killed before, but he’s pretty sure he’s dying for good this time. He can’t move his legs at all, and not in the usual way of being utterly spent or too injured to do so. He just… can’t move. There’s also a weakness in his chest he’s never felt before, and he’s felt just about all of the survivable kinds of weakness. It’s odd—a pressure, almost, but also sharp. He’s pretty sure one good hit would destroy his heart, even if a normal human struck him. His arms are broken wrecks, and his circuits… burned out beyond usage. 

He’s fairly certain that he’s going to die before the sun sets. 

It’s only the strange haze that’s fallen over him that keeps the panic from coming. In this half-life between light and darkness, he is at something resembling peace.  

He’s thirty-five. It’s longer than he ever expected to live. He and… he and Rin used to make a joke that he really was turning into a grouchy old man, like  **him** , and soon enough he’d be ranting about how all these young whippersnappers who wanted to be heroes didn’t know what they were getting into. It had been… funny. 

This is not how  **he** died. There is no rope, no ungrateful and suspicious mob, no shouts roaring in his ears. There is only a grassy hill, littered with the corpses of Dead Apostles and broken swords, and an open sky dripping with light. 

The thought is infinitely comforting. 

* * *

 

He had loved being a hero. He finally, finally reached his dream and traveled the world, righting wrongs both normal and magical. He had loved seeing the faces of those he saved, and he cherished every  _ thank you  _ or  _ god bless you  _ he’d received. On the days when his scars ached and burned with phantom pains, when his bones felt weak and hollow, the faces of those who he’d rescued had kept him going.

But not this time. He was too far gone for that. 

* * *

 

Lately, he had found himself wondering about getting older. With Rin. Together. Despite himself, he was excited. He had finally found a desire other then heroism: he wanted to be there for her. He wanted to see her grow old and make fun of her wrinkles, sooth her pains, cook her favorite meals. He wanted to live with her and live for her and watch her shine. 

His one regret is that he hadn’t said  _ I love you  _ to her one last time. 

They’d prepared for this, of course. His nature was self-destructive. It was only a matter of time before… before this would happen. 

They had both known he would die young. It was what heroes did. 

He knew Rin would handle it with the usual grace and elegance that she demanded of herself, and he knew that she would only allow herself to feel it when she’d found solitude from the rest of the world.

The thought of Rin crying alone itched at his eyes. But she would be alright. She was strong in ways he couldn’t fathom, and he… 

He feels flames licking at his eyes, belatedly realizes those are tears, and now he was seven again, stumbling and lost and the flames were all around him, and—  


He wants to live.

He’d laugh, if he could. He’s sure  **he** is, somewhere. The irony is just… perfect. 

His pain begins to fade, and he knows, in that strange, distant way, that the end is near. 

The sky has been painted with shades of gold and crimson, and the colors remind him of those dream-filled days when the world seemed young. He thinks about Fuyuki, and his failing heart aches for home. He thinks of Fuji-nae, and Issei, and— 

Sakura. Saber. Kiritsugu.

He hopes… he hopes he will see them soon. 

He’s still got swords in his hands. Kanshou and Bakuya are still with him. The married swords are staying, despite all logic. They are staying with him, his old friends. 

He’s… happy about that. 

He closes his eyes.

Death feels like flying. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Emiya family is entirely too good at making me feel things.


End file.
